Ad Victoriam

MISSION STATUS: RUST SQUADRON HAS LOCATED TARGET ONE. BUNKER SEEMINGLY IN LOCKDOWN. SCRIBE ATTEMPTING TO CRACK LOCKING MECHANISM. MAY REQUIRE ASSISTANCE.

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“Sir.” Scribe Driver muttered as he poked around in the exposed panel, a pale yellow glow emanating from the tools he wielded in his magic.

“Driver, yous know that I don’t deal much with that rank and file muck. Call me Temple.” Lancer-Sergeant Temple stood peering over the Scribe’s shoulder, his gunmetal TX-24 Aerial Power Armor reflecting some of the fading sunlight and concealing his features.

A clank sounded from the panel, a cable came loose, and the entrance to the bunker shot open with a cacophony of turret fire. Temple and most of the rest of Rust Squadron hit the dirt as the bunker’s old defense systems began to boot up and turn on them.

Driver continued tinkering with the panel, tools digging deeper into the complex web of wiring and electronics. Seemingly oblivious to the turrets opening up on the rest of the squad, his eyes focused in on his work.

“Aw, shit! Driver, I hopes yer ugly mug’s gotta fix for this!” Temple cried out over the roar of a half-dozen guns firing.

“Just a moment, sir.” Driver again mumbled. He began cutting a series of wires, and a pair of the turrets within the entranceway sealed back up.

The ammo within another detonated, the shrapnel cutting into and disabling another, and Driver threw a pair of hammers around the corner with his magic, the sound of metal slamming into metal ringing throughout the area as the defense systems went quiet.

The Sergeant stumbled over to the doorway, peering through into the darkened interior.

The room was filled with shell casings from the ceiling-mounted turrets, alongside the wreckage of the destroyed systems.

Looking back and jerking his head, he signals to his squad to prepare to advance..

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The bunker itself was near pitch-black, illuminated only by the orange-tinted lights flooding forth from the visors of the members of the squad.

Deactivated robots and rusted sets of armor littered the halls, and they were practically tripping over shells and spent cells, but not a single body had been found.

The rapping of their metal-plated hooves echoed throughout the halls of Level -1 of the bunker. There had been little evidence of what had actually happened here. Most of the terminals found had either been damaged, burned out, or disconnected from the bunker intranet system and data-wiped.

It almost felt too convenient that not a single system on this level was functional.

Temple’s ears perked up as he heard a skittling sound in the hall to his right. He could have sworn he saw a flash of something yellow in the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, the hall was dark. He looked behind himself, only to notice that the Scribe and the Lancer carrying up the rear were gone.

“What in the name of-” A cry sounded out from in front of him, and when he faced back forwards, the Lancers ahead of him had vanished.

The Sergeant was now alone and on the verge of pissing himself.

‘You’re good, you’re good, just gotta find a place to hold up for a bit to steel your nerves, that’s all.’ He could feel beads of sweat begin to run down his sides and slick the inside of his armor, the padding beginning to stick and mat down his coat. Suddenly, he came to a halt.

Before him stood the first corpse he had found yet. A skeleton wearing what appeared to be the tattered, burnt remains of a Scribe uniform. Next to it was the husk of a Sentry Bot, with the fusion core clearly having been detonated at some point. The only intact piece was the nozzle of a Flamer that had been mounted to its right arm.

All around him were the tell-tale signs of fire. Black ash, places where metal warped and bent, and tiny chunks of burnt debris.

Stepping into the door to his immediate left, he found himself in some kind of robot bay. Six of the containment tubes in the room were empty, one was busted in, crushing the robot within, and the last one was sealed shut. Approaching the terminal sitting against the wall near the final tube, Temple pokes around briefly. The systems on this computer were still online, though many of the things it was attached to were damaged or nonfunctional.

Some kind of major alert, now corrupted, covered the top edge of the screen and a warning icon flashed.

Selecting a garbled line of text to attempt to find anything useful, the final charging cradle hissed open.

“INTRUDER DETECTED. DISPENSING LIBERAL USE OF FORCE.” Temple suddenly was blinded by light, and could feel heat washing over the outside of his armor. He bit down on the small bar in front of his muzzle, opening up with a wall of lead.

He heard the bullets from his minigun pinging off of and ripping through metal, followed by the shattering of glass. The light began to fade, and the heat slowly began to die down.

Readjusting his eyes, he sees the shattered and mangled corpse of a Protectron slumped against the tube. Both of its arms had been traded out for flamers, and ran to a tank on his back.

‘Jesus. I’ve got the same IFF tags as the old Brotherhood, why’d it still attack?’

That was Temple’s last thought before a pulse grenade rolled into the room.

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He was practically blind, the functions of his armor temporarily disabled, and he was being dragged through the bunker by his unseen assailant. The only thing he could see was a glimpse of something faintly glowing yellow, but from where he was now he could only see darkness.

He felt the ground grinding along his armor at a fair pace, so this attacked had to have serious physical strength or their own set of Power Armor. Either option had disturbing implications.

Suddenly, the being pulling him stopped. A faint light flickered on just in time to see the door of the elevator he was in shut. The elevator appeared to be of the totally sealed variety, no windows to show what lies on the other side of the wall. He still couldn’t budge an inch, but he felt the elevator lurch and begin dropping.

A chime sounded out every few seconds or so as the machine passed by the various floors. Finally, the door slid open again, revealing what appeared to be the remains of the expansion project said to be in progress at the time of the Brotherhood’s defeat. The bunker here was supposedly beginning to expand further, and this matched up with that description. The place was littered with construction equipment, mining gear, and materials to construct hallways and rooms. The ground was also far rougher to be dragged along, being little more than rough stone.

The room was lit by strange yellow crystalline growths and patches of similarly yellow material along some of the walls. They glowed with a strange light, and Temple recognized them instantly.

These were the markings of recent or ongoing habitation by Changelings.

‘Fuck.’

That would probably explain the robot turning on him, infiltrators had likely already breached the bunker and the machines had gone into a contingency mode.

He was dragged into the hive proper, a series of underground tunnels supported by columns and walls of the same chitinous material, with clusters of the crystals providing light. Far down some of the tunnels they passed he could see yellow eyes staring forward at him from black figures.

He felt the dread rising in his stomach. These Changelings had access to some level of pulse weaponry, meaning they already had him totally defenseless. He was in the belly of the beast and couldn’t climb his way out.

The tunnel opened up into some massive chamber, with a spiral of rock going down deeper into it. He could see Changelings lined up on the various levels, observing his entrance. Across from him, across the chamber and lower on the spiral, he could see a Changeling in ornamental armor dragging one of the Lancers, who seemed in a similar state to himself. He could almost make out some kind of energy weapon attached to the Changeling’s armor.

Reaching the bottom, he was dragged forward slightly more, then felt his legs smack to the ground. His captor propped him up, and he could finally see the Changeling. It seemed to be wearing the same armor as the other, black and shiny, made up of plates that reminded him of a bug’s exoskeleton. The armor had yellow paint along the edges, matching his eyes. A Brotherhood-manufactured pulse rifle was strapped onto the armor.

The Changeling used their magic to form more of the yellow material, rooting him to his spot, before the Changeling detached his helmet.His head and neck were now free, allowing him to crane his head around to get his bearings. Before him was a large unoccupied throne, made entirely out of carved yellow crystals and pulsing with faint light. Beside him were the members of his Squad, similarly propped up and with helmets removed. Screw Driver had more bindings than the rest, thanks to their continued ability to move most of their body.

Sore Temple felt genuine fear for the first time in his life as a massive figure entered his vision.

It stepped from an archway near to the throne, revealing itself to them. The Queen of this Changeling hive. She was dressed in a suit of Power Armor, the same model as his own, but modified for a larger figure and painted with yellow markings. Her mane was short-cropped, the same color as damn near everything in this hive, and calmly scanned us with orange-tinted eyes.

“Hey, lady, yous best tells us whatcha got us for. You know our folks’ll come for us, y’hear?” Sore Temple called out, not caring for decorum. The Queen laughed in response, coming to a resting position on her haunches in front of her throne.

“Oh, my. Such a... rough tongue.” Her demeanor was one of mirth, seemingly having fun with the captured squad. “Is that any way to talk to a superior officer?”

“Su-what?” The Changeling began to saunter over to Sore Temple, smirk painting her face.

“Why, haven’t you heard of me? I’m only the Sentinel of the bunker we sit under now.”

“Sentinel? Wait, you… Sentinel Ynnai? How are you still around? You’re over a thousand years old at this point!” She laughed again at his response.

“Oh, dearie, I thought you would all know that Changeling Queens last practically forever with a proper source of love.” She turned around, trotting back to her throne. “After the Griffons… removed the hive I was once a part of, it left me the only female of our variety of Changeling left. There always has to be a Queen for a hive, so our magic chose me shortly after the war. I decided that, rather than find a cave somewhere, it might be in our best interests to choose someplace secure. Color me surprised when I return to find the security systems on the fritz and the few Brothers who had chosen to return for whatever reason killed.”

“But… why not contact us?” Temple coughed a bit, confusion reigning over his thoughts.

“I had no idea the Brotherhood had come back until some of my scouts spotted your group. I have had several somelings trailing you for a large portion of your searching in the region.” Ynnai leaned forwards, showing a mouth full of pointed fangs. “Now, pray tell, why were you sent to this place?” Driver clears his throat, catching the Queen-Sentinel’s attention.

“For this mission, we were sent here to check-up on the status of the bunker, clear out any potential threats, secure the facility, send out a signal to command, and meet up with a contact in the area. We had no idea you or any Changelings were here, ma’am.” Driver stated matter-of-factly.

“The pulse on your armor should wear off within an hour. Guards, please remove their bindings and show them to their quarters. I have more things to discuss with you, but perhaps a bit of talk amongst yourselves would be a good idea?

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MISSION STATUS: UNEXPECTED SURPRISE FOUND IN BUNKER. REQUIRE BARD NEGOTIATION ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY. LOCATION TAG ACTIVATING 23:00 UNTIL BARD ARRIVAL. LOCATION TAG DEACTIVATING 24:00 UNTIL BARD ARRIVAL.

SEND SOMEPONY SKILLED IN ENTOMOLOGY.

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Equestrian Agency for Gathering of Intelligence Report XFJ-0124
Nature of Report: Monitoring of Unknown Elements Within Equestria.
Subject of Report: UE: Brotherhood of Steel, Being of Interest #4146

SECTION A: The capabilities of the Brotherhood

The Brotherhood of Steel’s full capabilities are unknown, but between collected evidence, hearsay, remaining records from the Uprising period, and eyewitness accounts, the Brotherhood is of significant strength, if not significant size.

According to reports gathered from the last 10 years, roughly 1,500 Equestrians disappeared supposedly without a trace, a large number of which had a background in science, technology, or the military. Discounting unrelated cases, this still presents a technologically superior faction that could pose a significant threat to Equestria with the current state of the Army and Royal Guard. Though we have among the best-equipped forces in the world, we are not prepared for prolonged combat against such a foe.

Their Power Armor is a serious strategic and tactical advantage, allowing anypony to outmatch Earth Ponies in physical strength and shrug off weaponry what would rip a normal Pony apart.

We also have reason to believe the Brotherhood has significant quantities of veterans among its ranks, including several relatively high-ranking officers. They likely have intimate knowledge of our weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

The Brotherhood also maintains a fleet of flying machines beyond anything produced today. They use this to move soldiers and materials quickly and without possibility of intervention unless BoI #SPEC-04, aka Rainbow Dash, is utilized by the state.

SECTION B: A profile of BoI #4146

BoI #4146, aka Joseph Maxson, is the being responsible for the original founding of the Brotherhood of Steel. He was believed slain in the final battle against the Brotherhood in the warlord period, but sources in Vanhoover, Las Pegasus, Cloudsdale, and a contact in the Backroads Guild all report sightings of a figure matching Princess Celestia’s descriptions.

Joseph Maxson allegedly was first sighted somewhere near what is now Fillydelphia roughly 1100 years ago, though he was at first a very different individual than the Maxson that would rise to power in the Brotherhood.

He was apparently something of an adventurer, travelling around Equestria and saving people from strange events and anomalies. Along the way he acquired the services of a Griffon war hero by the name of Lion Greshi and a moderately powerful wizard mare by the name of Mundane Arcane.

Sometime, roughly 10 years before the Nightmare Moon Uprising, after a brief appearance at Princess Celestia’s court, he vanished from all records. He was next spotted following the Banishment, leading a warband of Ponies clad in the Brotherhood’s unique Power Armor against a Pegasi warband.

He appeared in his own custom-built suit of Power Armor, similar in appearance to the one he wore before the Uprising, but noticeably heavier and with more equipment.

All modern sightings have shown that he is not currently using said Power Armor, is still fully capable of combat, and shows extreme charisma and intellect. His actions during the Sand Worm raid near Las Pegasus likely saved the lives of many aboard the train, and the damage he inflicted on the raid group was grievous.

SECTION C: EAGI statements

The Brotherhood and BoI #4146 are hereby designated a Omega-Level Threat, with a Yellow-Level Aggressiveness Ranking. The Brotherhood has the potential to cripple or overthrow modern-day Equestria, but displays an unwillingness to take action against the state directly, though still presents a threat if met in the field.

The EAGI suggests the following measures be taken:

A: Increased monitoring of Equestrian intellectuals and combat-proficient Equestrians.

B: Major restructuring of the branches of the military and heavy use of anti-armor weaponry.

C: Anti-air assets be deployed among Royal Army and Royal Guard forces.

D: Increased efforts be made to obtain an insider within the Brotherhood willing to leak information to EAGI or the Principality’s government.

-Chief Intelligence Secretary Inkwell Spill